Weasley and Wood
by Lin Yarnspin
Summary: Through Charlie's and Oliver's mutual love for quidditch, they discovered they had another shared love- love for each other. A peek into what they might be up to nowadays…
1. How it Ends

An owl flew in the cabin window. It was a small tawny owl that landed gently on the table in front of Charlie and his uneaten lunch. He drummed his fingers on the table top and looked from the plate to the owl to Oliver sitting across from him.

"Well, this is it," Charlie said and his voice trembled. He tried to untie the letter from the owl's leg but his large, stubby fingers couldn't unto the string. He threw his hands up in frustration and told Oliver, "Here, you do it."

Oliver reached over and untied the string. Holding the letter, Hogwarts crest side facing Charlie, he asked coyly, "And do you want to read it or shall I?" A grin filled his face.

Charlie picked up a fork and began fiddling with the potatoes. "Oh just read it," He sighed.

This was the letter he'd been waiting weeks for, ever since it had become known that Hagrid was retiring and the position of Care of Magical Creatures professor would be available. Teaching wasn't exactly what Charlie had in mind, but after getting seriously burned by an angry Norwegian Ridgeback, a change would probably be best. He'd miss Romania horribly, but the Forbidden Forest and lake at Hogwarts would have to do.

Oliver broke the seal and unfolded the letter. He looked from Charlie to the letter and back to Charlie before saying, "Here goes nothing." Then he read, "'Dear Mr. Weasley, I would first like to thank you for your application to teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in this coming year. Your qualifications are exemplary. Secondly, I am pleased to inform you-'"

Charlie cut him off with a loud, "Yes!" as he threw his head back, face towards the roof, "Give it here." He reached out a hand to continue reading for himself.

Oliver passed him the paper and Charlie picked up the reading, "-pleased to inform you that your position will begin with the start of the term and upon receiving your return owl. Signed, Frey Tremlett-Claverdon, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Grand Sorcerer, Order of Merlin Second Class." He finished reading in a rush and threw the paper onto the table so forcefully that it startled the owl.

Oliver smiled, "Knew you'd make it." He stood up, walked over to the counter, picked something out of a tin, and returned to the table, giving the owl a treat. As soon as it ate it, the owl took off once again, disappearing out the window and into the sky.

Charlie couldn't stop grinning. Finally he had something to do again. For the past few years, since returning indefinitely from Romania, his life consisted of cheering on Oliver in matches and watching his hoard of nieces and nephews grow up.

But then Oliver had a run-in with a rather aggressive bludger. It ended his professional career since his shoulder would never be the same despite the best healers at St. Mungo's. The one upside to that incident had been that the two of them had more time to spend together, without running all over the country.

So there they were, a pair of injured, middle-aged guys in search of something to do with the rest of their lives. And then the news reached them of Hagrid's retirement. Charlie immediately sent his application, which had launched the waiting that had just ended.

Unfortunately, now they were thrown into another problematic situation. Charlie realized this before, and had tried to talk about it, but each time Oliver changed the topic, brushing his questions aside. Now, Charlie knew it couldn't wait any longer. He asked, "So what's next? We knew this could be coming. And it's here. I'm going to have to live somewhere much closer to Hogwarts."

Neither of them ever expected to find love, so now that they had, it was something they didn't want to lose. Somehow, they _had_ to make it work.

When they were at Hogwarts, Charlie, a few years older than Oliver, hadn't really known the younger student off the quidditch pitch. And both of them, especially Oliver, had been the quiet, studious type. But then they ran into each other at the Moldova World Cup.

Afterwards, neither of them could pick out what exactly it was that drew them to each other. Maybe it was their similar personalities. Maybe it was their admiration of each other's quidditch skills. Whatever it was, it worked, and had been working for about a decade, despite the distance at times.

Sitting at the table, Oliver sighed. He didn't want to admit it, even to himself, that he'd secretly wished at times that Charlie wouldn't get the job. Since his accident, Oliver didn't have a clue what he was going to do; it wasn't something he thought he'd have to prepare for. When the opportunity came along for Charlie, he tried to ignore his sporadic jealousy the best he could.

Finally Oliver replied, running his hand through his hair, "I- I haven't a good idea."

Charlie had given this some thought, "What about Hogsmeade? Maybe not in the village, but near it?"

Oliver shrugged. Yes, Hogsmeade was nice, but a little too quaint unless one actually had something to do there. He ran his hand through his hair a few more times and avoided looking at Charlie. At long last, he looked up and said, "I need to be blunt."

Charlie's eyes grew wide and he stretched his arm out across the table, subtly offering Oliver his hand, "Sure… What's wrong?"

"I don't want us to end up separated again."

Charlie smiled slightly, and furrowed his eyebrows in slight confusion, "But we won't. Of course you'd come too."

Oliver didn't get angry very often, but the frustrations that he'd held in since Charlie first applied for the job conglomerated and spilled out, "It's all very well for you, but what about me? What will _I_ do? We both know you're not content doing nothing, and why on earth should I be?"

Pulling his hand back, Charlie crossed his arms on the table in front of himself and started at them. Deep down, he knew Oliver was right. It wouldn't be fair asking him to move as well. Currently, although he still wasn't doing anything, at least they were doing nothing together.

After a long silence and a deep sigh, Charlie replied as he looked up slightly, "Know what? You're right…" He shook his head slightly, "I won't accept right away. I'll think about it for a couple days, see if we can't come up with some solution. Okay?" He stretched his hand back across the table.

Oliver looked at it for a moment without speaking. His face was expressionless and Charlie couldn't tell what was going on behind his eyes. At last, Oliver took Charlie's hand and met his gaze, saying, "Right, then."

The pair sat their for a moment, tanned, rough hand in tanned, scarred hand before getting on with their afternoon of babysitting Lily and Hugo. Besides taking the youngest kids out of their parents' hair for a few hours, the pair enjoyed the excitement and energy that came with it. Charlie knew he _had_ to find a way to make everything work out...

Later that evening after the kids had left, Oliver decided to take his broom out and try to clear his head in the night air. Charlie sat in the house, intently thinking, determined to come up with some sort of solution. After sitting and thinking, he tried pacing and thinking. His pacing led him over to the table where his letter still lay.

He picked it up and reread it. In the midst of reading, something finally clicked and Charlie exclaimed, "Hagrid!" Throwing the letter back on the table, he raced to the next room in search of a quill and paper. Racing back to the table, he sat down and hastily wrote a letter:

 _Dear Hagrid, I suppose you probably know I've been hired to teach Care of Magical Creatures. As excited as I am, I can't help but worry about Oliver. Our lives have become so interconnected that I don't know how any of this will work out. I don't know what you can do, if anything, but I need some advice right now. Charlie Weasley_

Then he coaxed the owl over, sending the letter off to Hagrid. And then the waiting resumed.

The following evening, shortly before dinner, the owl returned. Charlie was relieved to see it carried a reply. Oliver looked up from that morning's Daily Prophet which he was reading. "Anything interesting?" He asked.

Charlie answered quickly, "Just a note from Hagrid. I needed to ask him a few things yesterday."

When Oliver realized the letter was related to Charlie's job offer, he only said, "Oh..." before returning his attention to the paper.

Charlie, on the other hand, quickly broke the seal and read Hagrid's reply:

"Charlie, Knew you'd get it! Talked to Professor Tremlett-Claverdon. Put in a good word for Oliver. Won't say no more here but Oliver should get an owl soon. All the best, Hagrid."

As he finished reading, Charlie tried to hide the grin that was quickly spreading across his face. Trust Hagrid to come up with something. As to what that something could be, Charlie could only guess, and he felt his guesses weren't all that good.

While he cooked dinner, Charlie's mind was elsewhere. He tried not to get his hopes up too high, partially so Oliver wouldn't pick up on anything going on. But at the same time, he knew Hagrid well enough to know that if Hagrid didn't have answers he would have just said so.

The two ate in silence. Oliver was usually quiet, but since the arrival of the letter the previous afternoon, he'd been unusually uncommunicative. The silence was only broken when he volunteered to do the dishes.

Charlie didn't know what to do with himself. He just wanted this owl Hagrid wrote of to come as soon as possible. They spent the remainder of the evening in silence, reading. Charlie had the latest issue of the monthly magazine _Dragon Drools_ , and Oliver a book on the history of broomsticks.

Both of them were almost ready to turn in for the night when something thudded against a window. Oliver stated, "What the-?" Charlie raised the magazine in an attempt to hide his face as he began to smile in anticipation, hoping the noise had come from a Hogwarts owl.

Charlie hesitated behind his magazine just long enough for Oliver to move to look out the window. Upon seeing an owl perched precariously on the ledge outside, Oliver opened it, allowing the owl to hop in and onto his arm. Removing the letter and turning it over to read who it was addressed to, he was slightly startled to see it was for him. He certainly hadn't been expecting anything and didn't recognize the owl.

Oliver untied the letter and broke the seal, confusion creeping onto his face, as Charlie leaned forward and watched in anticipation. As Oliver read, his eyebrows knit themselves closer and closer together until suddenly his eyes sprang wide. He turned to Charlie and asked, "Do you know anything about this?" He waved the letter in the air.

"Not exactly," Charlie replied, which was the truth. He was as anxious to know the content of the letter as Oliver was to know it's origin.

"You're not a good liar, you know that?" Oliver said.

Charlie was practically falling off the edge of his chair, "Really. I don't know what it says!"

Crossing the room, Oliver handed Charlie the letter and told him, "Read this, and then explain. I can't believe this is a coincidence!"

Charlie put down the magazine and quickly read:

 _Dear Mr. Wood, I would like to offer you the position of Flying instructor and Coach and Referee for quidditch. As you may or may not have been aware, Madam Rolanda Hooch has wanted an excuse to fully retire for several years now. Your response is highly anticipated, Frey Tremlett-Claverdon, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Grand Sorcerer, Order of Merlin Second Class_

As he finished reading, Charlie looked up at Oliver and grinned, "Problem solved?"

Oliver shrugged, "I guess so…"

"Something still wrong? This sounds like something you'd be a tad more excited about."

"Well, I don't understand how this came about. I don't believe Tremlett-Claverdon came up with this on his own."

Charlie gestured at a chair opposite him and Oliver sat down. Oliver watched him closely, looking for any hint as to what had gone on. After a moment staring at each other, Charlie explained, "I wrote to Hagrid about the situation. The letter last night was his reply. I didn't know what he had done, he didn't say."

Slowly Oliver's expression of puzzlement turned into a small smile, "Thank you." He reached out a hand and Charlie took it. They looked into each other's eyes, losing track of time. Finally Charlie stirred and broke the silence.

"Looks like we're going back to Hogwarts."

The next morning, both Charlie and Oliver wrote hastey letters and sent them off to Professor Tremlett-Claverdon, accepting the offered positions.

 **2 Months Later**

Charlie and Oliver had forgone the typical accommodations given to professors in lieu of living in a small house on the edge of Hogsmeade. It meant waking up to Hogwarts every day, but it didn't matter to them.

The first day after they got all moved in and settled in their new house, Charlie walked up to visit Hagrid first thing in the morning. After knocking on the door and hearing the clunking footsteps inside, Hagrid threw open the door, saying in his gruff way, "Who's needin' summat so bleedin' early?" Then looking out, he realized who stood on the step, "Why if it isn't Charlie!"

"Hey Hagrid," Charlie replied as Hagrid enveloped him in one of his giant hugs and ushered him inside.

Hagrid began rambling, "When I got yer owl, I knew I had ter do summat. Yer the only person I could see takin' me job an' I told that ter Professor Tremlett-Claverdon . You an' Oliver came along just at the right time. I don't think anyone could be happier than meself…"

Eventually Hagrid began to talk in circles and Charlie couldn't help but interrupt, "And we have you to thank for it, Hagrid. I going to have some big shoes to fill." He looked up at Hagrid and grinned.

 **A/N I'm thinking about making this into a series of snippets of their relationship, mostly fleshing out some of the backstory bits in this. So if that happens someday, this will be rewritten leaving out all those bits and developing the rest a bit more. But for now, I just wanted to write something about these two. I generally don't ship, but I kind of like Charlie/Oliver. So this is the result and I'm throwing it out here to see what happens...**


	2. September 1, 1987

Short and stocky, his brown hair cut short, and his blue eyes glowing, Oliver Wood didn't look scared, but his insides were doing somersaults. He stood in the Hogwarts Great Hall surrounded by the other first year students. A menacing-looking boy with a square jaw. A boy built similar to himself except with red hair. A pair of giggly girls, one blonde and the other brunette. A scrawny boy with spiky black hair and pale skin stood whispering to a more normal-looking friend. After his brief survey, he felt some relief that, aside from the giggly girls, most everyone else looked as nervous as he felt.

The woman who had met them in the entryway and introduced herself as Professor Minerva McGonagall stepped onto the dais at the front of the hall. She stood next to a stool upon which someone had placed a crusty old hat.

She raised her hand and silence fell. Then the brim of the hat cracked open slightly and it began to sing in an aged, slightly squeaky voice:

 _Once upon a time,_

 _A time quite long ago,_

 _The Hogwarts founders created me_

 _To upon their students bestow_

 _One of their names, the houses,_

 _Into which I would sort_

 _Each and every student_

 _By peering into their heart._

 _In Gryffindor there I will put_

 _Those who are strong and brave._

 _In Ravenclaw are placed those_

 _Whose minds for knowledge crave._

 _For Hufflepuff I do select_

 _Ones who are loyal and true._

 _And in Slytherin, lastly are placed_

 _Those in whom sly cunning grow._

 _One's seven years at Hogwarts_

 _Are often filled with surprise_

 _And friends and learning,_

 _Until at long last you arrive_

 _Upon that final moment_

 _When you walk out these doors_

 _Leaving school behind you_

 _As you walk across other floors._

 _Now it's time for each of you_

 _To put me on your head._

 _You may think you know where you belong_

 _But let me decide instead._

 _The way the founders decided_

 _When they placed their trust in me_

 _And let the sorting now commence_

 _Into your heads I long to see!_

And with that, the brim closed back up. Professor McGonagall pulled a scroll out of the folds of her cloak. She unrolled it and began reading names. One by one the students took the stool and let the large, floppy hat bury their faces.

Professor McGonagall called out "Clearwater, Penelope"and one of the giggly girls, the blonde one, sat on the stool

"Ravenclaw!" the hat announced proudly after a moment.

Oliver sighed quietly. With his name, he was bound to be one of the last ones called. He didn't anticipate standing there alone.

Oliver watched as the boy with the spiky hair, Gideon Crumb, became a Hufflepuff. The menacing, square-jawed one- Marcus Flint- and Gideon's friend, Orsino Thruston, both became members of Slytherin.

Finally, he was left standing with the red-haired boy, the two of them staring intently at the hat. Oliver didn't want to look around for fear of noticing how many eyes might be on him.

"Weasley, Percy!" Professor McGonagall called. Oliver closed his eyes. So he _was_ going to be last.

After a few seconds of hesitation on the hat's part, Percy became a Gryffindor. As Percy stepped down from the stool to walk to the Gryffindor table, he looked at Oliver and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards slightly. Oliver's eyebrows furrowed slightly. If that was an attempt at an encouraging smile, Percy certainly needed practice.

"Wood, Oliver!"

Oliver slowly took a seat on the stool, avoiding looking out at the rest of the school as long as possible. He caught a glimpse as the hat fell over his eyes.

"Hmm…" a voice murmured in his ear and Oliver jumped, "Aha! Yes of course!" Then the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Professor McGonagall plucked the hat off his head and Oliver walked to the Gryffindor table as quickly as he could without running. The only empty spot was next to that other boy, Percy Weasley, so he took it.

Professor Dumbledore, headmaster, stood up from behind the teacher's table. He raised his hands and the din of voices fell silent. Then he said, "Welcome to another new year! I know you've all got empty stomachs and soon you'll have sleepy eyes. So without further ado, tuck in!" He clapped his hands and a feast appeared on the tables.

Oliver dug into something he couldn't identify, but it was hot and delicious. As he ate, he watched the people around him. Percy ate solemnly, all his attention focused on his plate. The other first year students ate nervously, taking bites in between twisting every which way to stare at everything around them. The older students had chosen seats near their friends and were, for the most part, completely absorbed in conversation.

After eating in silence for several minutes, Percy turned to Oliver and said, "So, your name is Oliver Wood, right?"

Oliver, with a mouthful of food, nodded. He quickly swallowed and replied, "And you are Percy… I forget your last name."

"Weasely."

Oliver nodded again.

After eating another bite, Percy asked, "And are you from a family of wizards and witches?"

"My Dad is, but Mum isn't. He doesn't use a lot of magic, though. And I don't know a lot about- lots of stuff, I guess."

"Well, my family is pure blood. My Dad works at the Ministry of Magic. His job isn't very interesting, though. He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office because he likes muggle things. He's fascinated with them, although I don't know why. When I grow up, I'm going to do something much more important," Percy finished pompously.

Oliver nodded a third time, not really interested in Percy's bragging. Right now, he didn't fancy being stuck around him for the next seven years. As hard as it was going to be, it was going to have to find other people to make friends with.

As the meal finished and students, especially the younger ones, began to yawn, the dishes vanished the same way they had appeared. A few of the older students stood up and calls of, "First years, follow your prefects!" and, "Common room this way!"

Slowly Oliver stood up and moved towards an older older boy who had been sitting farther along the table. His red hair was just long enough to put in a small ponytail. Something that looked like a fang hung on a cord around his neck and rested on top of his robes. He spotted Percy and shouted, "Hey Perce! Congratulations on Gryffindor!"

Oliver watched as Percy merely crossed his arms and scowled. Then Oliver asked, "Who's he?"

Through his clenched jaw, Percy said, "My brother. Bill."

Oliver stared between the two in surprise. Straightlaced Percy was related to a guy with a ponytail and a fang? Well, he supposed almost anything could be possible. He followed Bill and Percy and the rest of the first year Gryffindor boys out of the Great Hall and up half a dozen or so flights of stairs. They stopped outside a giant portrait of a rather large woman.

Bill said, "Peppermint toads." The portrait opened, revealing a doorway which he led them through and added, "Remember the password. It's the only way to get into the common room. And other houses aren't supposed to find out. Dorms are up that way." He pointed to a staircase on the opposite side of the elaborately decorated room.

Oliver followed Percy up the stairs. As soon as he'd unpacked enough to find his pajamas, he collapsed in his bed and fell asleep.


	3. The First Match

"Are you going to the quidditch match?" Percy asked without looking up from his book, as he sat reading in the common room.

Oliver exclaimed, "Of course! I wouldn't miss it for anything!" Growing up, he'd had a vague idea of what quidditch was, but after his first flying lesson a few weeks earlier, he started learning everything he could about flying and quidditch. And the chance to see his first game wasn't something he was going to miss.

Percy looked up, "Great. Give me five minutes and I'll go down to the pitch with you."

Oliver felt his eyes grow wide. " _You're_ going to a quidditch match?" Somehow, Percy was the last person he thought would have interest in quidditch.

"Of course. And besides, my brother is on the Gryffindor team."

"Bill plays quidditch?" Somehow Bill didn't seem any more the quidditch player than Percy did a quidditch fan.

"No not Bill, Charlie. He's a fourth year. He plays seeker."

Oliver just nodded. He'd spent enough time around Percy to know he had a lot of brothers, but not enough time to keep them all sorted out. Since Percy seemed to prefer being by himself more often than not, and Oliver was too shy to make a lot of friends, the two tended to gravitate towards each other when they needed company.

Percy quickly finished the chapter he was reading, closed the book, and stuck it in his bookbag. He ran up to the stairs to the dorm to drop off his bag and returned at a sprint. "Let's go, or we won't get a good seat."

Oliver practically fell over a chair in his rush to leave the common room. He had never seen Percy move that fast except for an evening the previous week where he realized he needed to the library to get a book and made it with only minutes to spare before it closed for the night.

The two of them sprinted down to the quidditch pitch, hoping to get seats as high up as possible. According to Percy, who had seen quidditch before, those were the best ones. Oliver ran after him, just eager for the experience of watching the match from any seat.

Evidently most people had the same idea as Percy about arriving early. As the two of them climbed to the seats Percy wanted, they had to scramble over and around many other students. Most of them were cheering even though the game hadn't yet started. One boy let out a loud "Whoo go Ravenclaw!" right next to Charlie's ear as Charlie squeezed past him.

When Percy stopped and they sat down, Charlie had a magnificent view of the pitch below. Sitting half a dozen rows from the top, and just to the right of the center, Charlie could see everything.

It wasn't too long before Madam Hooch, the flying teacher, stepped on to the grass below and blew her shrill whistle. The two teams emerged, one from either end.

An energetic, third year Hufflepuff, Heathcoat Barnaby, began his commentary, "And here comes the Ravenclaw team- chasers Casper Kelly, Iris Curd and Albert Price; beaters Bernard Quigg and Vincent Parks; keeper and captain Gwen Kirkby; and seeker Sean Fairfax! Price and Quigg are new to the team this year, we'll how strong of a group Kirkby's put together as her first year as captain.

"And now for the Gryffindor team- chasers Brandon Hunt, Danielle Carter, and captain Trevor Gould; beaters Lewis Lennox and newcomer Wallace Piers; keeper Jasmine Fisher; and seeker Charlie Weasley. Looks like quite a solid team! Who know's how this is going to play out!"

There was no mistaking Charlie, Oliver thought. He had the same red hair as Percy and Bill except it was thick and wild. And like Percy, he was on the shorter side but much more muscular.

The fourteen players took off into the air and Oliver leaned forward in his seat. Madam Hooch blew her whistle a second time and yelled out, "Teams, play hard but fair, and on my whistle- three, two, one-" which was followed by another shrill blast. She released the four balls and took off into the air herself.

Heathcoat Barnaby launched in, "And Hunt had the quaffle- he passes to Gould who passes back to Hunt- Oh and Quigg whacks a bludger towards Fisher- Fisher ducks easily- Meantime Curd intercepts the quaffle- passes to Kelly who passes to Price- looks like they're going for a goal!"

Fortunately Price missed, Ravenclaw moaned and Gryffindor cheered. Oliver was enthralled by the speed of the game, how quickly the players maneuvered around each other, the agility with which they handled the quaffle, the whole experience. First Gryffindor scored, then Ravenclaw, Gryffindor again, and Ravenclaw. Pretty soon Ravenclaw was leading, but not by much.

Barnaby continued, "Gould's got the quaffle, moving quickly towards the Ravenclaw end- And there's some excitement up at the opposite end- seems Weasley's spied the snitch! There he goes!"

Oliver stared, eyes wide, as Charlie began a spectacular dive. No one else could see the tiny snitch, but evidently Charlie saw it and was determined to catch it.

"And Fairfax has seen what Weasley's up to- there he goes after him- no sign that he's seen the snitch, though-"

Suddenly Charlie pulled out of the dive, sped along the ground for a few seconds, and ascended with his fist raised. Something gold glinted between his fingers. The crowd around Oliver erupted into deafening cheers. Oliver and Percy stood up, clapping and yelling.

"Charlie Weasley catches the snitch and 150 points to Gryffindor, and Gryffindor wins!" Barnaby concluded his commentary.

Oliver kept watching Charlie. Charlie was grinning and looked so pleased, with good reason, Oliver thought. Out of all the spectacular playing he's seen, Charlie's dive and catch of the snitch was the most amazing.

"Come on," Oliver heard Percy saying, "Charlie told me there's going to be a party in the common room."

Oliver lay in bed that night, almost too wound up from the excitement of the quidditch match to sleep. It had been even more amazing than he'd ever imagined. As he finally drifted off, Oliver decided then and there, that he wanted to be like Charlie Weasley. Maybe not be a seeker and have to catch that ridiculously small, nearly invisible snitch. But he wanted to play quidditch, and be good at it, and do something amazing...

 **A/N So I know it's kind of short but it's important. I do have more coming, but with school and everything else going on, writing is slow going... And heads up that as I write more, the order could get moved around so things stay chronological...**


	4. Tryouts

"Tryouts for the Gryffindor quidditch team will be held Saturday morning beginning at 9am. Any interested students should be on the pitch at that time."

Oliver Wood, along with half a dozen other curious Gryffindors, read the notice which had been posted on the house notice board. He moved out of the way to let others read, but inside he was jumping and trying not to shout in excitement. This was what he'd been waiting for, since he saw his first quidditch game almost two years earlier.

Saturday would make his second attempt at joining the Gryffindor team. Last year, there had been only one opening on the team- for chaser. Oliver tried out, desperate to play quidditch, but he didn't really have the chaser build. Now this year, the keeper position was vacant and, after two years, Oliver knew it was the one for him.

In flying classes, Oliver had learned he was quite good on a broomstick although he wasn't very fast. Even at the age of thirteen, his build was solid and muscular, perfect for a keeper.

So on Saturday morning, Oliver woke up extra early, too excited and anxious to sleep any longer. As he got dressed, he accidently knocked a book off his night table onto the floor. In the next bed, Percy Weasley rolled over, and without opening his eyes, mumbled, "Sss too early…"

Oliver turned around and hastily whispered, "Sorry. Quidditch tryouts."

Percy rolled onto his back, "Even Charlie isn't awake this early.." He trailed off and drifted back to sleep as Oliver hurriedly tied his sneakers and grabbed his broom. He departed the dormitory and practically ran through the common room on his way out. As he descended the stairs, Oliver slowed down, realizing breakfast probably wasn't available this early.

Oliver's footsteps echoed on the stone outside the Great Hall. He hadn't seen anyone else since leaving the dormitory. Oliver opened the door to the Great Hall and went in. He sat down halfway down the Gryffindor table, putting his broom on the bench next to him.

Apparently Oliver wasn't the only one who had risen early. After five or so minutes, the door opened and Charlie Weasley entered. Somewhat stocky, his long, red hair a mess, and still somewhat sleepy, Charlie yawned as he sat down, oblivious to Oliver farther down the table. He ran his fingers through his hair several times in an attempt to comb it before tying it into a messy ponytail. Then he pulled a crumpled wad of papers out of his pocket and began studying them.

It was only a few more moments before the food appeared. Oliver realized just how hungry he was, and filled his plate. But with fork in hand, he only picked at his food. With food covering the tables, Charlie looked up for the first time, and realized someone else was there.

Spying Oliver, Charlie yawned again, said, "Good morning…", and slid down the bench to sit opposite Oliver.

Oliver looked up from his plate and turned to keep from blushing. Ever since he'd seen his first quidditch match, where Charlie had caught the snitch and won the match for Gryffindor, Oliver had admired him from afar.

Quietly, Oliver replied, "Morning…"

Charlie began filling his own plate. In between taking things, he glanced up at Oliver again. "You're one of my brother Percy's friends, aren't you?" he asked.

He wasn't exactly sure "friend" was the word he would use to describe Percy, but Oliver nodded anyways, and said, "I'm Oliver Wood."

"Charlie Weasley." He held out his hand, and Oliver shook it. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Umm...I'm going to try out for the quidditch team." Oliver felt the color rising in his face again.

"Ah, excellent!" Charlie exclaimed, looking awake for the first time that morning, "Keeper, I'm guessing?"

Oliver nodded again.

Charlie continued, rambling, "Although you're still a little small for keeper, you certainly don't look like a chaser, and those are the two open spots on the team."

Other people had started trickling in, and Charlie spied one of his friends and waved. Then he turned back to Oliver, "Well, I'll see you in an hour or so. I'm sure you'll do just fine. In the meantime, I really suggest eating something." He smiled and got up, nodding at Oliver's plate and taking his own plate with him.

Oliver mumbled, "See you," and went back to picking at his food.

After a while longer, Percy came down and found Oliver. He sat down and said matter-of-factly, "Apparently you didn't have to get up so early and disturb the rest of the dorm."

Oliver rolled his eyes. This was why he was so hesitant to call Percy a friend, even after two years. He said the snarkiest things sometimes.

Oliver ate about half the food he'd put on his plate before giving up. He picked up his broomstick, told Percy, "See you later," and walked out of the Great Hall. There were more people around, so his footsteps didn't echo nearly as loudly as before as he crossed to the front doors.

He made his way slowly down to the quidditch pitch, breathing in the crisp air of early fall, trying to calm his insides. Maybe he shouldn't have eaten. The butterflies felt like they were going to make him expel it all.

Don't worry, he told himself, you'll do your best. If that's not good enough, at least you'll know you tried.

Arriving at the quidditch pitch, Oliver saw a few other people, current team members, standing in a little huddle, Charlie among them. Scattered around, half a dozen others stood, presumably to try out. Oliver was uncomfortable just standing there in silence, but it wasn't too long before Charlie turned from the team, waved his arms, and called out, "Gather 'round, everybody!"

A final few people were straggling in, and when everyone was gathered, there were about a dozen hopefuls waiting for whatever Charlie said next.

"Right, then," he continued once he was sure he had everyone's attention, "There's two spots on the team we're going to try to fill today. One is for chaser, the other is keeper. Those of you interested in chaser, step to this side." He gestured to the left. "And for keeper, this side." He indicated the right.

Oliver stepped to the right, along with three others, two boys and one girl. The group of interested chasers was larger. Apparently that was the more popular position.

Charlie continued when everyone had separated, "We're going to start with keepers. Hunt, Carter, you guys are up." Charlie flagged over the two chasers already part of the team. The pair of them jogged forward holding their Hunt was a rather tall and skinny sixth year with short, brown hair and brown eyes too large for his head. Danielle Carter was a fifth year, who, judging from her sleek, long hair and near-flawless complexion, didn't fit any typical image of a fierce athlete, which she was.

Pointing at one of the boys next to Oliver, Charlie asked, "What's your name?"

"Grant Peers," the scrawny boy replied. Looking at him, Oliver doubted very much that Grant Peers would make a good keeper.

"Well, Grant Peers, looks like you're up first," Charlie continued, "Hunt and Carter will attempt to score. Just do your best to block their shots."

Grant nodded, and he, along with Charlie, Hunt, and Carter, took off into the air. Oliver watched as the three experienced players began tossing the quaffle back and forth, speeding around the stadium. After a while, Charlie dropped back to observe. Carter took a shot at the rightmost hoop. Grant's fingertips briefly brushed against the quaffle before it sailed through the hoop. Hunt went next, this time aiming for the center hoop. Grant managed to stop the quaffle before promptly dropping it.

Charlie blew a whistle that was hanging around his neck, and gestured to the others to land. When the four of them were back on the ground, he said, "Thank you, Peers. Next?"

The girl, whom Oliver recognized as fourth year Amy Millhouse, went next, and Oliver thought she was actually pretty good. She managed to stop both shots, but the second one only just. When Charlie and the others landed, it was Oliver's turn.

Charlie called, "Wood, you're up!"

Oliver mounted his broom and took off into the air, the wind ruffling his hair. He flew up towards the three hoops and hovered in front of them, slowly moving back and forth and preparing himself to go in whichever direction Hunt and Carter threw the quaffle.

Charlie waved his arm, and Hunt and Carter took off, zooming back and forth, passing the quaffle. Suddenly Carter released the ball, and Oliver saw it flying towards him. He stopped thinking and let instinct take over, guiding his arm out to successfully catch it. Glancing up briefly, he could see Charlie nodding slightly.

Then Hunt flew over to collect the quaffle, raced back up the pitch, and Carter joined him in throwing it back and forth again. This second time, Hunt took the shot. He tried to be tricky, throwing the quaffle from such an absurd angle to make it difficult for Oliver to tell where it was heading.

Luckily for Oliver, he judged correctly, swerved to the right, and caught it once again. He was fairly sure Charlie would be pleased with his performance. Then Oliver heard Charlie's whistle and the four landed.

"Thank you, Wood," Charlie said, failing to mask all his excitement from his voice. It carried over when he turned to the last boy, "Ready…?"

"Peter Mason," the boy quickly supplied.

"Ready, Mason?" Charlie added the conclusion to his previous sentence.

Peter Mason was so average, unremarkable in appearance, and boring that he was easy to overlook. Oliver sometimes forgot they slept in the same dormitory room. He hadn't even known that Mason knew how to fly.

When Peter took off into the air, it was clear he _could_ fly, but just barely. The higher he flew, the more he wobbled. It was almost too painful for Oliver to watch. When Hunt threw the quaffle towards the hoops, it was all Peter could do to stay on his broom, let alone catch the large, red ball. Charlie didn't even give him a second chance; he probably decided it wasn't worth risking Peter's safety when he clearly wasn't going to make the team.

When everybody was safely back on the ground, Charlie said cheerfully, "Well, that's that, then. Thank you, you four are free to go, or you can watch the rest if you'd like. The full team will be posted on the common room notice board this evening. Chaser candidates, you're up!"

Amy Millhouse and Grant Peers waved to the rest of the group, and headed back up towards the castle. Peter Mason walked over to stand next to Oliver, who was watching as Charlie directed the others in what he wanted them to do.

"You were good. Really good. And I was completely awful. I don't know what I was thinking," Peter spoke slowly, gazing up into the sky.

Oliver looked at him, unsure of how to respond. After a brief hesitation he said, "Thank you, I guess. Don't worry about it, you tried your best. Not everyone is made for flying."

Peter shrugged, "I guess so."

They watched the chaser try-outs for another few minutes before walking back up to the castle in silence, Peter too shy to start a conversation and Oliver too lost in his own thoughts of playing quidditch on the same team as Charlie Weasley.

As they sat in the common room that afternoon, Percy tried to distract Oliver from thinking of the tryout results and get his mind onto their History of Magic homework, but to no avail. When Percy asked him to name who was Minister of Magic when St. Mungo's was founded, Oliver started before mumbling, "Joscelind Wadlock."

Percy rolled his eyes, "I don't know who that is, but it's most certainly not the correct answer. And thinking about quidditch won't make Charlie post the list any sooner."

That last sentence captured Oliver's full attention, "She's a chaser for Puddlemere United, and a brilliant one, too!"

"Sure, if you say so. Now who was Minister of Magic in 1560?"

Several hours later, Percy and Oliver had packed up their books, stowed them in the dormitory, and were heading out of the common room for dinner. As they reached the portrait, Percy with his arm outstretched to push it, it swung open anyways from someone on the other side. Charlie squeezed past them and said, "Evening, little brother. Spent the whole day with your nose in a book, didn't we?"

Percy sighed, "Yes, actually. And it's been of great benefit."

Charlie chuckled, "I'm highly doubtful, but I'll take your word for it." Then he turned to Oliver, "Bet you've been a bit anxious since your try-out."

Oliver nodded.

"Well, I come with answers." He waved a piece of parchment he'd been holding. "Going to post it now. See you Wednesday evening." Then he winked and continued walking.

Oliver tried to turn around to follow him, to see for sure what he thought was true, but Percy tugged on his arm, "Come on! Dinner won't last forever and the noticeboard isn't going to go anywhere!"

"It'll just be a second!" Oliver wriggled free and darted across the room. As Charlie moved away from the board, Oliver scanned quickly for where it read "Keeper".

Listed underneath, Oliver read his name.


	5. Game On?

Oliver showed up somewhat hesitantly, clutching his broom, to his first Gryffindor quidditch team practice. Even though Charlie had decided Oliver was the best one for the job of chaser at the tryouts, Oliver wasn't sure he would be able to live up to the abilities and expectations of the rest of the team.

He entered the quidditch pitch and saw the rest of the team, minus Charlie, already gathered there. Chaser Danielle Carter waved him over."Hi, Oliver, right?" She smiled.

Oliver nodded shyly.

Just then Charlie emerged from some hidden location where he'd been finalizing details of the practice schedule. "Right, here we go, gather 'round." He passed out a small piece of parchment to each member and then continued, "These are the practice schedules, at least for now. As the season goes on, we'll add or change practices as needed. Today we'll just take it easy, get used to working together as a team, okay?"

Everyone nodded, eyes trained on Charlie.

"We've got two new members this year, chaser Sarah Wilson, and keeper Oliver Wood. Welcome, guys. Any questions before we begin?" Charlie asked.

Everyone looked at each other, then looked back at Charlie and shook their heads.

Charlie walked a few paces away from the group, opened a small trunk, and pulled out the quaffle. He threw it to Brandon Hunt. Then he turned back to the trunk, pulled out a bludger, and carefully passed it to the muscular Lewis Lennox. He handed the beater's bats to Wallace Piers. "Lennox, Piers, have fun and don't let the rest of us get clobbered. That leaves the rest of us to play with this guy." He spun the quaffle around in his hands before turning to Oliver and Sarah, "We're going to start with some drills. Don't worry, you two will catch on quickly." Then he smiled before adding, "Okay, everyone, in the air!"

The seven students mounted their brooms and took off, flying around the stadium. Lewis Lennox had let go of the bludger and Olive caught a glimpse of it zooming around near the far end of the pitch. Charlie passed the quaffle to Hunt, who passed it to Sarah, who passed it back to Charlie, who passed it to Oliver. Oliver fumbled with it slightly as he tried to throw it to Danielle, but thankfully she had no problem catching it.

The chasers, keeper, and seeker continued passing the quaffle as they flew up and down the field. The two beaters wove in and out and around the rest of the team, chasing the bludger and whacking it away. They continued in this manner for about a quarter of an hour, warming up and readjusting to the feel of the game, since some of them hadn't had the opportunity to practice during the summer.

Eventually, when Charlie had possession of the quaffle, he waved his arm to gather everyone together. Lewis chased down the bludger before he joined the rest of the team hovering in the air over the middle of the field. Then Charlie began,"Great start. Now for the serious stuff- all the tactics. Hunt, Carter, you know the drills. Show Wilson the maneuver…"

Three hours later, Oliver walked wearily to the showers. The sun had been beating down on him all morning, causing sweat to accumulate under his practice robes. So Oliver took one of the longest, coldest showers of his life. By the time he finished and gathered up his things to head back up to the castle for lunch, Charlie was the only other one still there. He was sitting, straddling a bench in an attempt to use it as a desk, quickly scribbling notes about the practice. He looked up when he heard Oliver.

"Hey," he smiled, "I didn't realize anyone was still here."

"I guess practice was more exhausting than I thought it would be."

Charlie chuckled slightly, "You get used to it after a few times. And wait until after we win a match. It will all pay off." He smiled as he finished speaking.

Oliver nodded.

"You're not the talkative type, are you?"

Oliver shook his head.

Charlie chuckled again, "Well, you're a good flyer and you're able to put up with Percy. You're an okay guy." He smiled again then added, "Better get up to the castle before lunch is over."

Nodding, Oliver skirted out of the changing room and to the Great Hall for some lunch. As he walked in and smelled the aromas wafting off the table, he realized just how hungry he was.

All the weeks of practice were finally going to be put to use. Gryffindor's first quidditch match of the season had arrived on a beautiful Saturday morning in mid-October. Clutching his broom, Oliver made his way down to breakfast, half awake but less anxious because being in a stupor. Percy trailed behind, attempting to read as he walked. Oliver turned around just in time to steer Percy from walking into the side of the Great Hall door.

"Can you take your nose out of that thing for five minutes? Five minutes, that's all," Oliver sighed exasperatedly. A little encouragement and support from his friend wouldn't be out of the question.

"As soon as I finish this section," Percy said monotonously, hardly glancing up from the page as Oliver directed him toward an empty spot that the Gryffindor table.

Oliver rolled his eyes, sat down, and began moderately filling his plate. He didn't want to play hungry, but also eat so much that he'd feel sick. As Percy was still reading, Oliver looked up and down the table. Lennox, Piers, and Hunt were eating farther down the table along with a few other non-quidditch playing friends. Sarah and one of her girlfriends were sitting apart from others, giggling and glancing around at various boys. Oliver sighed as he took another bite and glanced back at Percy, who had just shut his book and begun eating.

"So, are you ready for the match, then?" Percy asked.

Shrugging, Oliver replied, "I guess so. I mean, I know how it's supposed to go, and seems like Charlie's drilled us on everything possible, but until we're face to face with the Hufflepuff team, we're not really going to know, are we?"

"You tell me. I don't study quidditch."

"You don't study quidditch. You practice it."

"Study, practice, whatever. Do whatever it is that makes you win."

Oliver rolled his eyes again, before asking, "Hey, where's Charlie? I haven't seen him anywhere. Do you think he forgot?"

Percy laughed, "Charlie, forget about a quidditch match? He's probably been down at the pitch for a couple hours already!"

Oliver stared, open mouthed.

"And if you don't finish eating and get down there soon, he's going to be on your case about it," Percy said. As he calmly ate his breakfast, he nodded down the table to where the beaters were just getting up from the table.

Quickly Oliver shoveled most of the rest of his food into his mouth, climbed off the bench, and grabbing up his broomstick, said to Percy, "Make sure you actually come to the match. Don't get stuck in another book."

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll be there," Percy replied as his hand not holding the fork inched towards his book.

Oliver rolled his eyes yet again and left the Great Hall, hurrying after his teammates down to the quidditch pitch as the early morning breeze blew through his hair. Everybody was in the team's locker room except Charlie and Danielle. As Oliver began changing, Danielle burst in.

"Guys, stop a minute and listen!" she shouted anxiously.

In various states of dress, the rest of the team turned around to stare at her, slightly surprised at her entrance.

Brandon Hunt raised his eyebrows and asked, "What's going on?"

Once Danielle caught her breath, she said, "I just saw the Hufflepuff team! They've got a few new players. And their beaters are huge! No offence to you two," she nodded at Lewis and Wallace, "but keep an eye on them; they look mean."

Everyone just stared at her, stunned they hadn't known about the Hufflepuff team before now. It was then Charlie decided to enter from the small room at the back, where he'd been going over last-minute tactics. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What's happening here?"

Everyone turned to look at him, each waiting for someone else to tell Charlie Danielle's news. Brandon sighed and told him, "Hufflepuff's got some wicked-looking beaters."

Surprisingly for everyone else, Charlie just nodded and replied calmly,"Oh you mean Freddie Sprize and Martin Casson?"

Gazes glued to Charlie, everyone nodded with their eyes wide and staring. Charlie knew and didn't tell them?

But then Charlie continued, "Don't worry about those to. They may look 'wicked', but they lack technical skill and coordination. They've just got heart, and a bit of strength. But it only matters if they actually can aim, which most of the time they can't."

A few people let of sighs of relief. The others were still slightly concerned, but if Charlie was dropping the matter then they had to as well. The team finished getting dressed in silence, then gathered around for Charlie to give his pre-game pep talk.

"Right, everyone. Try not to take this match too seriously. It's the first one of the year, with a team that's not played together before. Of course, obviously try to win, but also just do your best to execute what we've practiced. So, with that, grab your broomsticks, and here we go!"

Oliver adjusted his gloves, and picking up his broom, followed Charlie to the exit into the stadium. As the team waited for Madam Hooch to announce the teams. Charlie looked down at him and asked, "Nervous?"

Oliver stared briefly at the ground in front of him before looking up at the older boy. He shrugged and replied, "Either nervous or excited. I can't tell."

Before Charlie could respond, a voice boomed from the stadium, "We've got Gryffindor playing Hufflepuff, and here is the Gryffindor team, captained by seeker Charlie Weasley. His chasers are Brandon Hunt, Danielle Carter, and newcomer Sarah Wilson. Beaters are Lewis Lennox and Wallace Piers, and keeper, another newcomer, Oliver Wood."

Following Charlie, the Gryffindor team made their way onto the field, taking to the air as soon as they were clear of the changing room.

Oliver circled the stadium, watching as the Hufflepuff team was announced and took off into the air. Danielle had been right, the two beaters _were_ large and burly. But they were also kind of slow, he noticed, making it harder for them to catch the bludgers.

Madam Hooch released the snitch and bludgers into the air, and on her whistle she threw up the quaffle and the game began.

Oliver hovered back and forth in front of the hoops, eyes rapidly tracking the movements of the chasers and the quaffle. Charlie had assembled quite the team of chasers. They were doing really well at keeping the quaffle at the Hufflepuff end of the stadium.

The next thing Oliver knew, a bludger came out of nowhere, knocking him sideways off of his broom. The last thing he remembered was falling through the air, heading towards the sand below.

Charlie couldn't believe it. Somehow Martin Casson had managed to not only connect the bat to the bludger, but also aim it directly at Oliver. Needless to say, without a keeper Gryffindor had lost. After the game, Charlie stayed in the showers until the rest of the team had left. Then he hurried to the hospital wing to see how Oliver was doing.

"What do you mean I can't see him? Charlie nearly bellowed at Madam Pomfrey when she denied him entry.

"Visitors are not going to do him any good right now."

"Can you at least tell me how he is?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed, "He is still unconscious. Magic can only heal within certain limits."

Charlie dropped his face into his hand and sighed. He couldn't help but blame himself for what had happened to Oliver. Some way for Oliver to start out his quidditch career, and hopefully not end it in the same game.

Charlie took to sitting next to Oliver's hospital bed for at least an hour every day, hoping desperately for him to wake up. Finally, the Friday following the match, Oliver stirred.

The briefest motion was enough to cause Charlie's head to jerk up from the book he'd been attempting to read. He whispered, "Oliver?"

Oliver's eyes fluttered and he moved his head ever so slightly, "Mmm…"

"Hey Oliver, it's Charlie."

Oliver opened his eyes. "Wha… happened...?" he mumbled.

"You got hit by a bludger."

"Huh?"

"During the quidditch match? Against Hufflepuff?"

"Oh yeah… That happened, didn't it?"

Charlie nodded.

Oliver closed his eyes, "I don't remember what happened…"

Charlie put a hand on his keeper's shoulder, "Don't worry about it, it wasn't your fault. The rest of the team will be glad to hear you're awake. Now, just rest, okay?"

With his eyes still closed, Oliver only mumbled again, "Hmm…"

As Charlie was about to leave, he heard Oliver's voice, "Charlie?"

Looking down at him, Charlie replied, "Yeah?"

"Don't replace me, I'll be back soon…" he managed to say before falling asleep.

Satisfied Oliver would be okay, Charlie went off to find Madam Pomfrey and tell her that her patient had been awake and talking.


	6. A Date in Hogsmeade

The snow had finally begun to melt and the ground to thaw. Plants started to come back to life and birds began to reappear. One first year girl even spied the giant squid and ran back to the castle terrified. The students, as well, began to come alive, feeling the energy return that the cold weather had sucked out of them.

That first nice week, no one could concentrate on classes and homework. Everyone just wanted to be outside, and for the weekend to come so they could escape to Hogsmeade.

Thursday evening after dinner, Percy Weasley and Oliver Wood sat together in an empty classroom, attempting to work through their arithmancy homework and finish it before the weekend arrived. With so many people going to be away from the castle, Oliver had plans to spend as much of the weekend as possible on his broom, flying around the quidditch pitch, practicing maneuvers and working out new things for team practices.

Percy, on the other hand, had something different planned.

After about an hour of working away in near silence, only speaking to ask each other a question here and there, Percy put down his quill and looked up, "So, it's a Hogsmeade weekend."

Without glancing up from his parchment, Oliver said, "Bring me back some Bertie Botts Beans and a sugar quill, if you go."

"Ah, that's the thing," Percy said, peering at Oliver with his head tilted back to a strange position to account for his glasses having slid down his nose, "I was hoping _you'd_ be going."

Oliver started and looked up, "What?"

Percy cleared his throat, pushed his glasses up his nose, and continued matter-of-factly, "Well, it's like this. Penny and I were planning on going to Hogsmeade together this weekend."

"Great, have a good time. I'm sure you two will be happier without me." Oliver said quickly. Percy and Penelope Clearwater certainly didn't need him around while they were snogging.

"No, there's more. You remember Penny's friend, Angie?"

Oliver nodded, wincing slightly at memories of the two girls giggling and pointing together at almost every boy in their year, himself included, at some time or another. Since Penelope had become a prefect, they'd mostly stopped, but still the memories lingered.

Percy continued, "She's looking for someone to go with, too. What do you say?"

Oliver shrugged and tried to keep from rolling his eyes. Ever since Percy had discovered how much he liked Penelope, he'd been trying to set Oliver up with someone, as well.

"Come on. Her grandad's ill and she needs a bit of fun right now. And you always have Sunday to practice quidditch." Sometimes Percy knew Oliver a little too well.

Oliver sighed and stared off at one of the drab stone walls. He didn't find Angie all that interesting, and he certainly didn't want to spend the day in her company. It would probably be awkward, anyways, since Percy and Penelope would want to spend most of the time cuddling and snogging. He'd had his fair share of giggling and pointing from Penny and Angie, and didn't want Angie to take this as an invitation to start snogging him. After all, she was a girl…

Finally Oliver turned his gaze from the wall back to Percy. Sighing again, he gave in, "Fine, I'll go. But if you and Penny get too caught up in each other and leave me stuck alone with Angie, I'm gone."

Percy nodded. He knew Angie could get a little annoying at times, but since she was his girlfriend's best friend there wasn't much he could do about it. "Right, then," he said, "let's get this finished." He picked up his quill and slowly began writing again.

Oliver picked up his quill as well, but just sat holding it poised over his parchment. A day in Hogsmeade _would_ be fun, but spending it with Percy and Penelope, and Angie? He really didn't want Angie to get the idea it would be some sort of date or something, because it definitely wouldn't be. That was just about the last thing Oliver wanted.

Saturday morning after breakfast, Percy and Oliver waited in the entrance hall for the girls to join them. Percy was the first to spy his girlfriend's blonde head through the crowd of students. He got her attention and waved her over. Angie's brunette head followed closely behind.

Both girls were dressed in skirts and blouses, with coats overtop as the morning was still chilly. Penelope grabbed Percy's hand and wove her fingers tightly into his. With his other hand, Percy gestured towards the open front doors and said, "Well, shall we?"

Percy and Penelope led the way out of the castle, across the grounds, and to the road that led to Hogsmeade. Oliver and Angie trailed slightly behind. Oliver was none too eager to overhear their lovebird chatter. When Angie turned to face him and batted her dark eyelashes, he knew this would be a long day.

"Good to see you again, Oliver," Angie said in a sickly sweet tone.

"Nice to see you, too," Oliver replied, somewhat pointlessly he thought, since they'd seen each other in charms only the day before.

Angie continued watching Oliver, occasionally fluttering her lashes. Oliver sighed at the thought of the long hours ahead.

"So, Oliver," Angie giggled and paused, making sure she had his complete attention.

Meanwhile, a loud, shrill giggle issued from Penelope a couple meters ahead. That merely prolonged Angie's giggles and gave Oliver a chance to roll his eyes, unseen.

By this time, the four had reached the edge of Hogsmeade. The village was fresh and alive on the fine, spring morning. In her excitement, Angie gripped Oliver's arm and squealed, "Ooh isn't it simply charming today?"

Politely, Oliver replied, "Yes, it is."

Then Penelope's voice drifted back again, "Oh Perce, you wanted to go to Scrivenshaft's, didn't you?"

Percy nodded, "But we don't have to, if you'd rather not."

"Oh I don't mind. Then I have an excuse to get you into Madam Puddifoot's later on." She let out a small giggle.

Angie turned to Oliver, "And where shall we go?"

If anything, Oliver wanted to go to Sprintwitches, and get some much desired broom care supplies. Then he figured if he dragged Angie there, it would only add to the misery of the day. So he said, "What about Honeydukes?"

Angie let out a squeak, which Oliver took to mean yes. Percy, who had been listening to their conversation, turned around and asked, "Meet at Madam Puddifoot's in about an hour?"

Oliver reluctantly agreed as Angie, with her hand still around his arm, began tugging him towards Honeydukes. "Oh this is going to be so much fun!" she exclaimed in a high pitched squeal. Oliver just went with it. At this point there was nothing he could do.

Angie held onto Oliver's hand as they browsed the shelves in the crowded shop. Occasionally she spied some sweet she found overly adorable, which meant she let out a shrill squeal of delight and grabbed Oliver's arm, and ask him if he thought she should get some of whatever it was or wait to see if there was anything cuter. Luckily for him, she quickly realized the more fancy the delicacy was, the more expensive it was also.

They'd been in the shop well over half an hour before Angie finally decided she had finished, so they made their way through the crowd to the line at the counter. Angie had settled on chocolates, sugared butterfly wings, and crystallized pineapple. Oliver had his every flavor beans and sugar quills he had been wanting.

After they had paid and exited the shop, Oliver asked, "Do you mind if I stop in Sprintwitches quickly? I need a couple things for my broom."

"Ooh of course not!" Angie replied with a giggle before she took Oliver's arm as they walked up the street, and then began chattering, "I don't know very much about quidditch, or any sports. But I do know that you're very good. Then again, if you weren't you wouldn't be the captain! It's just marvelous that you're the captain. Is it a difficult job? I can imagine it could be, not only playing but coaching everyone else on the team as well…"

Oliver let her ramble until they reached the shop, where he quickly unwound her arm from his as they entered. "I'll only be a couple minutes," he told her before rushing off through the mostly empty shop to find his items, and to give himself a brief respite from Angie.

He heard her voice follow him, "Okay, then we'll probably have to go meet Perce and Penny. I just love Madame Puddifoot's!"

Thankfully Angie lingered near the door, admiring the shiny Nimbus 2000 which was on display in the window. Oliver took as long as he dared selecting and making his purchase, but he could only delay for so long before Angie would wonder what he was doing and come after him.

As soon as they were out the door, Angie latched onto Oliver's arm once again, "I think I love quidditch players. All the guys seem so strong, and most are also kind of cute." She looked up at him and fluttered her eyelashes.

Oliver resisted the urge to wholeheartedly agree with her sentiment. But he'd survived this much of the day; there was no use in sending it downhill now.

They ran into Percy and Penelope just as they reached the door to the tea shop, both of whom were holding small things they had purchased, and the four of them entered. Madam Puddifoot's was dimly lit and most of the light came from candles on the tables to create a romantic aura. Everything seemed to be made of or covered in lace, from the coasters on the tables to the lace around the pictures of elaborate hearts. Penny led the way to one of the larger tables, one which could accommodate the four of them. She sat first, dragging Percy and his chair as close to her as possible. Angie sat next to him, and Oliver between her and Penelope. Madam Puddifoot came over and they all ordered teas.

Penelope and Percy were holding hands on top of the table, and she was leaning on her boyfriend's shoulder. Angie purposefully laid her hand on the table, and Oliver saw it, knowing that she wanted him to take it, and resolving that he wouldn't.

Their teas came, and they sat drinking for a few moments, the girls mostly making small talk over their purchases. But as soon as her cup was empty, Penny was back to leaning of Percy's shoulder and it wasn't long before she started nuzzling his neck. It wouldn't take much before they began snogging.

Oliver could sense Angie looking from him to Penny and Percy and back to him, somewhat expectantly. He chose to concentrate intently on the contents of his teacup. He could feel his face growing hot and hoped he wasn't also turning red.

In his periphery, Oliver could see Angie inching her hand closer to his, and under the pretext of adjusting her coat on the back of her chair she moved the chair slightly closer to him. Penelope and Percy were completely obvious to the awkwardness going on across the table from them.

"So Oliver," Angie began in a hushed voice, leaning in, the arm closest to him resting on the table.

He hurriedly glanced around, looking for anything to use as a distraction, but nothing appeared. Under normal circumstances he didn't think he'd want to date Angie Ventson, and then considering she's a girl…

Angie slid her hand across the table until it was as close as possible to Oliver. Then she slowly lifted it and placed it on his arm, dragging it upwards towards his shoulder. Oliver tried to shift backwards, albeit unsuccessfully as he almost fell off the delicate chair. Angie's hand was making its way over his shoulder and to the back of his neck. He could feel her head coming closer to rest on his shoulder. Panic began to flood his mind. This was just about the last thing he wanted, to be sitting in a tea shop being cuddled by a girl. And he knew it wasn't just because he was being stubborn and immature.

Out of options, he quickly faked a sneeze, giving him an excuse to pull away from her arm and causing her to draw backwards. And it broke whatever romantic atmosphere Angie had been trying to create. Penelope and Percy looked up briefly before their lips were drawn back together.

"Sorry," Oliver managed to say, somewhat convincingly, he hoped, "Maybe I'm coming down with something. Wouldn't want you to catch it."

Angie sat back in her chair, a disgruntled frown spreading across her face.

Seeing how quickly Angie had lost interest in him, Olivier continued, improvising, "Actually, I do feel a little sick. Maybe it would be best if I went back to the castle. Wouldn't want to really come down with something and miss the next quidditch match."

Across the table, Percy raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Grabbing his cloak, Oliver rushed out of the tea shop, practically tripping over the little tables and chairs on his way out, leaving a disappointed Angie behind.

But Oliver didn't head back to Hogwarts. Instead, pulling his cloak tight about him against the wind, he slumped against the side of the shop next to Madam Puddifoot's. He closed his eyes, and in his mind, replaced Angie's face with that of a certain redhead with freckles.


End file.
